


Periphery

by orphan_account



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, M/M, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-03
Updated: 2017-05-20
Packaged: 2018-09-21 16:18:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9556901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Money issues lead Luke to look for a housemate on Craigslist. It's great. Luke isn't affected by him at all.





	1. i.

**Author's Note:**

> WELL this is different!! First of all, I'll no longer be writing using my old handle, which was lourrygum. I really wanted a fresh start to (hopefully) improve the quality of my writing, and this way I can do that without having to delete any of my old work. Also, this fic actually has a plot which is a nice change.
> 
> I hope you like it :)

When Luke opens his eyes, and the murky, indiscernible shadows of his dreams slowly fade to nothing with each passing second that he’s awake, only to be replaced with the perpetual anxiety of knowing that he’s going to lose his house pretty soon, the easiest thing to do is to close his eyes again. 

It’s too late, now. Consciousness has got him by the hair and isn’t going to let him go, not until at least the early hours of tomorrow when he manages to worry himself to sleep again so he can restart this hell of a daily routine for the billionth time, that morning. He takes a breath, then opens his eyes for the second time, staring at his ceiling, which may not be his at all for much longer, and sits up in his bed, running his fingers through his bed-hair. He’s so screwed.

He pulls his phone off the charger, silencing the alarm that woke him in the first place. It’s time to go to work. He hates this part of being an adult, amongst many others. The life he’s built is very well falling apart before his very eyes and he can barely manage to salvage 5 consecutive hours of sleep each night, and he’s been existing solely off salted peanuts for over a day now but nevertheless, from nine to five he’s expected to be Mr. Hemmings, the accountant who has his shit in order and will have that file on your desk in 10 minutes.

It takes him under fifteen minutes to get showered, get dressed, and get his hair looking somewhat decent. He makes a travel mug of coffee for the short drive to work, after opening his fridge as if, by some miracle, actual food would have appeared.

It hasn’t.

He beats traffic by leaving just before rush hour can really begin, because he’s just forward-thinking and responsible like that, and he likes to take his punctuality at the workplace into his own hands rather than blaming it on hold-ups on the way there. Luke likes to think he’s applied this spirit of hard work and dedication his whole life, probably, which begs the question of why the fuck he was demoted last month. To a lower position, the position he had spent years trying to get out of, at that, with a lower salary, less benefits and a fucking shared office.

The company he works for, Plaza & Co, aren’t obliged to tell him why he was demoted, necessarily, as they had wasted no time in informing him. The contract he had (stupidly, without reading it properly) signed at the beginning of his employment had it typed out in black and white, so he was at a complete loss as to what the hell he had done wrong, if anything. Ashton swears on his dead rabbit’s grave that Luke hasn’t done a thing wrong and it’s all a conspiracy, but if Luke allows himself to consider that evil possibility, on top of his substantially lower pay which, in turn, is the reason he’s going to lose his house – he thinks he may also lose his mind. So he doesn’t pay Ashton any mind when he suggests things like that because he likes his sanity, or what’s left of it, and he’d like to keep it because it may very well be the last thing he actually _has_ soon.

Luke takes the elevator up to the sixth floor, and walks to his office, sipping out of his coffee mug as he goes. Ashton looks up as he walks into their office. 

‘Sup bro?”

“How are you always here before me?” Luke is incredulous, setting his drink on his desk before sitting down. 

Ashton leans back in his seat, stretching his arms out, then interlocking his fingers behind his head. “I’m better than you in every way.” He replies simply. Luke rolls his eyes, turning his desktop on.

“Right, right, ‘s’why we’re both stuck in the same position in this shitty company.”

“I may be stuck here but at least I’m _punctually_ stuck here.

“Fuck you.” Luke frowns. “I am punctual. It’s 8:59 you’re just an early kiss-ass.”

“At least I’m not addicted to caffeine.”

“At least I don’t wear my hair in a bun.”

“At least I’m not about to be homeless. Oh, shit, that was kind of below the belt, wasn’t it?” Ashton winces at his own words. “Sorry man. Please don’t cry, I didn’t mean it, you know that my couch is always open and I’ve actively been trying to get you to just move in with me already for the last ten years.”

“We’ve only known each other for five, dickwad.” Luke snipes, but Ashton’s words barely leave a mark. It’s a fact he’s come to terms with, several times, crying into his pillow, or sometimes just crying in the bathroom at work, if his tears are feeling spontaneous – he’s going to be homeless. He can’t afford rent and his landlord has already sent him a notice for eviction and he’s going to be homeless. 

Ashton goes silent, all teasing aside as Luke looks away from him, and focuses on his desktop, abruptly very intent on getting some work done. Ashton’s face twists with sympathy, and Luke stares daggers at his computer screen.  
“I’m offering again,” Ashton says, after a minute. “Move in with me? Please? This isn’t a pity ask because I’ve been asking you to even before – you know. I’d be a great housemate, and you know and love me so there’d be no awkwardness or anything.”

“I’m not gonna leave my house and move in with you, Ash. I’ve lived there for–” 

“God, I know.” Ashton sighs heavily. “You lived there for your whole working life, it’s more than just an apartment, you and the building are forever joined in holy matrimony, blah, blah, blah. At least let me help _you_ find a house mate.”

Luke looks up, and catches the unfiltered excitement in Ashton’s eyes that Luke seems to be listening to what he’s saying for once in his life. Ashton had brought it up once before, long before things had gotten this bad, and Luke had dismissed it. But desperate times…

“I mean, you’re living in a spacious _two bedroom_ apartment in downtown Sydney – people would kill to share with you. Maybe not kill. But they’d probably pay a lot, and it’ll help you with rent, and then you can go back to living it up. Though I’ll never understand why your apartment has two bedrooms.”

“I use one of them as my Playroom, I keep my collection of whips in there.” He replies. The truth is, Luke used to actually _have money_ , believe it or not. God, those were the days. And the purchase of a two bedroomed apartment as opposed to a one-bedroomed one was something of an impulse buy. Having squandered most of his savings on continuing to pay rent all these months instead of giving up and moving into a one-bedroomed apartment instead … He was going to have to follow Ashton’s advice one way or another.

“How would I find a housemate though?” Luke asks.

“Craigslist.” Ashton grins, fighting not to laugh at the look of unabashed horror on Luke’s face.

“Let me rephrase: How would I find a housemate that’s not a potential serial killer, though?”

“You’re not going to do any better than Craigslist. What do you suggest, we print out an ad? In the _newspaper_? This isn’t the 1970s, Lucas.”

Luke takes a few moments to consider what Ashton’s saying. On one hand, he’s right. No one reads the newspaper anymore, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to share a house with someone who did. On another hand, literally _anyone_ could reply to a Craigslist ad. But then again, didn’t the same go for an ad placed anywhere else? Ashton spots the exact moment that Luke gives in, and nods triumphantly, turning to his computer and typing.

“Glad to see you’ve come around. Now lets see what we have here. How do you feel about living with a ‘Matthew’?”

“Wait, what?” Luke stands up and walks over to stand at Ashton’s desk so he can see his monitor screen. “Did you have an ad up _already_?” 

“Well one of us has to look out for your wellbeing. You’re about to be out of house and home in a little over a week and you have nothing planned, no backup at all. I believe a thank you is in order.”

Luke ignores him. “Matthew is 50. Not happening.” 

“Okay, okay.” Ashton continues scrolling. “How about her?” He suggests, cursor hovering over an email from ‘Molly’, who starts her first paragraph off by letting him know that she’s ‘different from any other applicant he’s had’. This peeves Luke for some reason. 

“No.”

Ashton looks at him. “You’re going to have to be less picky. I don’t have an unlimited supply of people that want to live with you.” Luke elbows Ashton.

“You’ve changed your tune. Five minutes ago there were billions of people just waiting to move into my elite apartment in downtown Sydney.”

“Well now we’re back in the real world, and your only other choices are William, Anna, Katrina and Gordon.”

Luke raises an eyebrow. “What kind of name is Gordon?”

Ashton clicks into his email to read it, his eyebrows raising too. “He’s a man of few words,” Ashton mutters, but Luke can see that for himself. All his email says is “interested in apt. Let me know when/if I can move in thanks, I’m 23 btw.”  
“I think I might want to pick him.” Luke says, reading over the email again. Ashton looks up at him, shocked. 

“Really? You want to disregard the people who actually put an effort into their email for this guy? You sure?”

“Well, yeah. We’re the same age and I know from this that he won’t talk too much and annoy me like some people I know.” Luke pointedly holds Ashton’s gaze. Ashton gives him an exasperated look.

“So that’s it? That’s your final verdict?”

“Yeah.” Luke’s gut twists with the fear that this bout of spontaneity, combined with choosing not to listen to Ashton, one of the smartest people he knows, may come back to bite him in the ass. “Could you email him back and ask him to meet me so we can talk?”

Ashton looks at Luke warily. “I can’t tell if this is the final phase in your mental breakdown, or if you’re actually serious.”

“No, I’m serious. Things have been shitty for too long – this has to be the start of a new, positive streak, right?”

“Hopefully, but are you really going to take that chance over your _house_?”

“Could you just email him an address to meet me at?” Luke’s heart is already starting to feel a little lighter than it did this morning. Things were going to get better. They had to. He was going to get Gordon moved in as soon as he could, and then pay his landlord for the past 3 months upfront – he’d borrow some cash from his mum if he needed to, he didn’t care, because finally, _finally_ something was going his way.

__

Luke’s first time meeting Gordon is at a coffee shop, as per their previously arranged agreement. He’s sat at a table and seems to know who Luke is as soon as he walks in, because he waves him over immediately. Luke tries not to be shocked about the fact that Gordon is kind of attractive – just ‘cause he found him on Craigslist didn’t mean he couldn’t be good-looking. He’s not sure what exactly he was expecting but it wasn’t _this_. Luke is hyper aware of Gordon’s eyes on him, scrutinising every inch of him. Luke belatedly realises that Gordon has as much to lose here as he does – choosing to live with a total stranger from the internet was something they both had in common here. He absently wonders if Gordon had the same thought, about him being attractive, too, but kills that line of thought before it can go any further. He doesn’t need to add any more stress to his life.

“Hi.” The man sitting at the table hasn’t taken his eyes off of Luke since he walked in, his bottom lip half sucked into his mouth as he watches him. He has a beard that’s not really grown out that much, like he’s not sure if he wants a fully grown beard or just wants to keep it in the stubble stage. There’s a black snapback jammed backwards over his hair, and his black shirt is pushed up to his elbows so Luke can see the tattoos and bracelets that decorate his forearms. “I’m Luke.” He reaches out to shake his hand, and Gordon shakes it firmly.

“Hi.” He nods. “So can I pay rent now, or are there any more questions?” He asks, straight to the point. Luke doesn’t miss the slight emphasis Gordon puts on the word ‘questions’. Ashton had emailed him over an abundance of them, most of them irrelevant, despite Luke telling him not to bother with a few of the more ridiculous ones such as what music he listened to and whether he puts the milk or the cereal in the bowl first. Luke had ended up secretly pleased, because Gordon had answered them all, and Luke now knew they both played guitar and liked the same bands and well, it didn’t hurt to have that info.

“I don’t think there are.” Luke shakes his head. “How soon are you looking to move in?”

“Dude, I’ll literally go back with you right now, if possible. Calum wants me _out_.”

“Calum?” Luke asks.

“My best friend.” Gordon explains. “He thinks I scare his hook-ups away. And I do. On purpose. Because getting hooking up with a different guy each night isn’t healthy. Or normal.” Gordon quirks a brow, suddenly wary. “You don’t do that, do you? ‘Cause I don’t know you or care about you enough to scare away your hook-ups. It’ll probably just piss me off a lot, and I’m the passive-aggressive type, so you probably won’t even notice.”

Luke huffs an incredulous laugh. “Uh, no, I don’t, uh. Don’t do that.” He replies, trying to be as casual as possible, but his mind is still two steps behind, focusing on the fact that Gordon’s friend brings home a different _guy_ every night, and it doesn’t make any sense to hope that Gordon might be gay by association, but he does anyway – stupidly, he might add.

“Good.” Gordon breathes. “So. About me moving in today…”

“Oh, yeah, that can be arranged.”

“Nothing to arrange, man. I’ll get my shit, I’ll bring it over, and then I’ll give you your money. ‘S pretty straightforward.” Gordon sips from his Styrofoam coffee cup.

“Right, yeah, ‘course.” Luke says, and at least two of those last three words didn’t need to be said – if he doesn’t watch out, he’ll start rambling soon. He has no idea why this guy makes him nervous, but it really needs to stop now if they’re going to be sharing a home.

“Great.” Luke sees Gordon smile for the first time, and he finds himself staring at the crinkle of his green eyes and the white flash of his teeth.

“Yeah. Great.”

“So are you going to give me the keys or something?” 

“Right, right,” Luke fumbles in his pocket until his fingers brush against the cold metal. He pulls out the fob for the gate, and the key for the apartment, joined together by a keychain with a puppy on it. “Here you go, Gordon.”

Gordon looks up in surprise at his name, before laughing, an abrupt huff of amusement. “My name’s Michael.” He says, which, to Luke, suits him a lot better.

Luke’s forehead furrows – has he just given the keys to his house to a total stranger? He eyes him warily. “What?”

“I use a fake name on Craigslist. Everybody does.”

“I didn’t.” Luke frowns. He decides to blame it on Ashton later.

Gor- _Michael_ looks at Luke like he’s stupid. “Maybe you should think about it next time.”

“Well then how do I know you’re the same person I arranged to meet with?”

“How did you know up until know?” Michael raises his eyebrows. “You didn’t ask for any ID, or for me to show you the emails you sent me as proof. Hell, you didn’t even ask for a picture of myself before we met. Are you always this naïve?”

“Are you always this blunt?” Luke manages, not quite sure how to handle being put on blast like this.

“Yes.” Michael folds his arms and asks again, “Are you always this naïve?”

“Look, do you want to move in or not?” Luke asks.

“’Cause I’m starting to worry. If this is how you are about choosing a housemate, then God knows what else you’re capable of. Who else have you given your name and address out to on Craigslist?”

“Just you, and believe me, I’m starting to regret it already.” Luke doesn’t know where the sudden snark comes from but he regrets it as soon as the words leaves his lips, even though Michael was asking for it. Michael sees the wide-eyed regret on Luke’s face and stifles a laugh, leaning forward. 

“I’ll see you at home.” He says, picking up the keys before standing up, nodding at Luke, then walking out of the coffee shop, back to his car. Luke’s not sure what just happened, or what it means, but he does know his life is a lot better now than it was this morning and, well, if Michael’s snippy attitude was the only con to this whole arrangement, he’d gladly take it.

__

It doesn’t take too long for Michael to start moving in. Luke’s there when he comes through the front door for the first time, backwards, holding a huge, heavy-looking, unmarked cardboard box. Luke sits behind the kitchen island and watches as he sets it down on the ground before standing up and panting from exertion. Another man follows him in, holding a similar-looking box, dropping it next to the other one. 

“Fuck me. Moving is hard.” The other man breathes. 

“This is your fault anyway.” Michael grumbles.

“Hey, it’s good for you. You couldn’t live on my couch forever, don’t act like you’re not secretly proud of yourself for graduating to your own bed.”

Luke awkwardly clears his throat, and they both turn around like they’re just noticing him, which they very well might be.

“Uh. Hi again,” He says, and Michael’s lips lift in the tiniest of smiles – or it could just be a smirk. The other man grins at him, though.

“Hi, I’m Calum. You must be Luke, the one who freely and carelessly gives out personal info on Craigslist.”

Luke folds his arms. “And you must be Calum, the one who has an extremely active sex life.” As soon as he says it, it hits him how fucking risky that was. God, maybe Luke _is_ way too careless. He doesn’t know how Calum’ll react, hell, he doesn’t know him, period. There’s a brief silence, just enough for Luke to wish he wasn’t here at all, before Calum’s tongue clicks.

“Fiesty.” He says, before throwing an accusing glare at Michael, presumably for spilling about his private life to some guy they just met. 

“No judgement here.” Luke assures him, which Michael sucks his cheeks in, in an obvious attempt not to laugh. “We all have needs.” He says, and he has no idea why he can’t just shut the hell up.

“That we do.” Calum agrees. “Michael here, for instance, is going to _need_ a very long nap after he’s finished unloading all his shit from his car by himself.”

“Caaal,” Michael groans, all traces of humour washed away from his face. “C’mon, I’m sorry. You can’t just leave me.”

“I’ll see you later Luke. Have fun Mikey.” Calum nods at Luke before walking out of the apartment. Michael stares at the door for a second before turning to face Luke, and sighing when he sees the wary expression on Luke’s face.

“I’m really sorry–” 

“Don’t worry about it, he’s just dramatic. He’ll get over it. But since this _is_ your fault, you can help me with the rest.” Michael smiles at Luke, and it’s a sight to behold. Luke clears his throat.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, sure.” He agrees, following Michael downstairs, back to his car.

It takes them the better part of an hour to get everything into Luke’s apartment. By the time they’re finished, they’re both sweaty and Michael’s shirt is off. As Luke pours him a glass of cold water, he flops down onto the sofa, eyes closed, arms stretched out above his head. Luke swallows, eyes travelling over every inch revealed skin, glistening with perspiration. Did he mention Michael’s shirt is off?

It had been forty-five minutes of watching Michael lift heavy items and grunting as he picked them up, and walking around half naked and a lot of sweat à la the hot Sydney sun. Luke wasn’t coping very well. It was hard in a lot of ways but Luke did his best to stop it becoming physically so, because he thinks he’d die from embarrassment in the most literal sense of the word, and Michael, as he was quickly learning, was a fan of playing with Luke’s embarrassment. 

As Luke stares, Michael exhales loudly through his mouth, and then his eyes open. Luke turns away so fast to avoid being caught staring that he knocks the glass of water he had poured for him over. It seems to fall to the ground in slow motion, before shattering on the marble into little crystalline shards, kind of like his _fucking self control_. 

When he looks up again, slowly, Michael’s already looking at him, amusement shining bright in his eyes like he’s wondering what comment he’ll make about how clumsy Luke is, first. 

“Don’t.” Luke says, just as Michael opens his mouth to say something, which makes Michael smiles even bigger, eyes locked on Luke’s. Luke can’t help smiling too, like it’s contagious.

“Not that this isn’t a cute bonding moment and all,” Michael says after a moment, “but can I have my water now?”

“Sure, sure no problem. As soon as I attend to the sharp, potentially deadly, pieces of glass surrounding my feet.” Luke shoots back, turning to get a dustpan out from under the sink and trying to steady his heartbeat.

Michael rolls his eyes. “So you’re a dramatic one too.” He sighs. “Tragic.” He says, then gets up to get his water himself. His hip brushes past Luke’s as he reaches to get another cup out, and Luke audibly stops breathing.

He’s so screwed.

__

“Shit, I’ve never seen you pine this badly before Luke.” Ashton says the next day at work. “This would be a great plot for a Lifetime movie: I met my Lover on Craigslist.”

Luke has his head in his hands and doesn’t bother looking up. “I’m so attracted to him.” He whispers, more to himself than to anyone else. It feels good to admit it aloud. And then it feels so much worse because now that he’s said it, it’s _real_.”

“So when are you gonna make a move?”

Luke looks up, startled. “What? Never. Are you insane?” 

Ashton sighs. “So you’re just gonna let yourself suffer, when he could maybe feel the same way. Am I going to have to lock you two in a closet till’ you give in and do something like we’re seventeen?”

“Would you?” Luke actually sounds a little hopeful, and Ashton laughs.

“Wow you’ve got it bad.”

Ashton’s not wrong. Just thinking about the fact that he has to go home to Michael after work makes Luke’s heart pound in his chest.


	2. ii.

Luke hasn’t started his day by masturbating since he was an extremely easily-aroused seventeen year old. But here he is, twenty-three and laying on his back in his bed, fingers wrapped around his cock before 8 AM.

He sighs softly, fucking into his fist, stomach clenching. He doesn’t have the strength to try not to think about Michael, to act like he’s not the one who’s got him so worked up. He twists his wrist at the base of his shaft, taking a deep breath. His thumb presses into his pubic hair as he tries not to shoot off the second Michael’s pink, almost-red lips flash into his mind. 

He thinks about how Michael would do this, how easily he’d be able to get him off – Michael just _wanting_ to get him off would probably have him fully hard and leaking, not to talk of him actually touching him – _tasting_ him. Luke chokes out a moan and rolls onto his side to muffle his sounds in a pillow, stroking himself faster, frantic with it. 

“Fuck,” Luke pants, moaning out Michael’s name like it’s being clawed out of him, coming all over his bed-sheets. “Fuck.”

__

“Morning.” Michael greets Luke with a smile as the younger man steps into the kitchen, a basket of dirty shame-laundry in his hands. “You want some cereal?”

It’s disorientating, to say the least, to have Michael sitting there at eight in the morning with slightly damp hair and a blob of moisturiser on his cheek, asking him if he wants breakfast. Luke’s guilty brain doesn’t even know where to start. He settles for nodding, and attempting to return the smile, but it ends up as more of a grimace. 

It’s so _domestic_ , but Luke snaps himself out of that line of thought before he can lose himself in it. It’s only day two - he needs to pull himself the fuck together. 

Michael holds up a box of Cornflakes – “Cornflakes okay?” – Luke nods.

As Michael tips the golden flakes into a bowl, he raises an eyebrow at Luke. “Cat got your tongue?”

“Am I not meeting your conversation quota?” Luke says before he can stop himself, sitting down, dropping the laundry basket on the counter. He bites down on the inside of his cheek, berating himself, but Michael just laughs like he seems to do a lot when Luke snaps at him.

“I thought you’d be a little nicer to me for feeding you this morning.”

“I am nice to you.” Luke says. So nice he'd probably let him fuck his throat, if he asked.

“Of course you are.” Michael says, lips curved upward a little as he pours the milk. 

He slides the bowl over to Luke’s side of the counter and picks up the basket of Luke’s dirty sheets. Luke nearly chokes on his cereal as he grabs it out of Michael’s hands.

“I can handle it.”

“I don’t doubt it.” Michael’s looking at Luke like he’s crazy, and Luke doesn’t blame him. “But I’m already doing a load so I can add this in with mine for you? That is, if you want.”

“Okay, but can I put it in the washing machine myself?” Luke cringes as Michael’s eyesbrows raise even higher.

“Sure you can Luke.” He says. 

Luke needs to fix this situation, and quick.

__

It’s nearing lunch time when there’s a loud knock on Luke’s office door. There’s just enough time for Luke to look at Ashton in confusion because no one in this company respects them enough to actually _knock_ , not in their position. The door swings open a second later and Michael walks though it, a Tupperware container in his hand. 

Luke forgets to breathe, and Ashton, seeing the look on Luke’s face, immediately puts the pieces together.

“Dude. You forgot your lunch.” Michael says, holding up the container.

“You must be Michael.” Ashton says at the exact same time, seeming to be enjoying this little surprise way too much.

“That’s me. You must be the guy who somehow knows who I am but Luke has never mentioned.” Michael replies, obviously trying to get Luke back for what happened the other day with Calum. Luke turns even redder.

Ashton gives Luke an unimpressed look then says, “I’m Ashton, Luke’s only friend.” 

“I can see why he’d only have one.” Michael teases.

“We all can.” Ashton grins.

“You brought me my lunch?” Luke finally chokes out, smoothing out his expression so he looks somewhat casual.

“Yeah. You forgot it this morning. I wasn’t surprised, with how flustered you were.”

“I wasn’t flustered.” Luke lies.

“You know, you could be right.” Michael sets the lunch box on Luke’s desk. “You’re pink in the face more often than not and I’m starting to think you’re permanently stuck like that.”

Ashton snorts with laughter and Michael rolls his eyes at Luke and tells him he’s welcome, and then leaves before Luke can even find his voice and reply.

“I can’t do this.” Luke whispers once Michael’s gone. “He’s gotta go. I regret everything. How soon can I kick him out?”

“Lucas,” Ashton says, leaning back in his chair, “calm down. Don’t do anything too drastic.” 

“You heard him Ash! I’m stuck in a constant blush. I can’t live like this.”

"I fucking told you not to rush into picking him." Ashton sighs deeply.

"I can't do it anymore." Luke groans.

“Woe is you. Must be hard to have a hot housemate who brings you your lunch at work.”

“That’s like ninety-five percent of the problem.” Luke groans. “I don’t know how to deal with it. It’s too much. I – I jerked off to him this morning. Into my _sheets_ , Ash. My sheets. Please help me.” He says softly, bottom lip jutting out shamelessly. Ashton gives him a dry look.

“Nothing sadder than a grown man trying to pull the puppy dog face. But alright. Technically, you can legally kick him out after six months if you discuss it with your landlord. That’s when his lease on the room ends, unless he renews it, but you’re not obligated to let him do that. It’s a dick move though, he seems like a nice guy.”

“Six months?” Luke starts to complain, but Ashton stares him down until he shuts up.

“This is kind of shitty of you man. Where’s he gonna live after this?”

“I don’t know.” Luke says miserably. Even just thinking of what his friend Calum had said about this being a fresh start for Michael the day they moved in makes him feel like a monster. “He’ll find something.” He says hopefully.

“Is going back to constant eviction notices really what you want to do?”

“I’ll figure it out,” Luke shrugs. “I feel bad about it but I think I’ll explode if I have to live with him indefinitely. He’s too much.”

“You’re so fucking dramatic.” Ashton says drily, focusing back on his computer screen.

Luke flings his pen across the room at him and picks up his phone to make the call to his landlord.

__

When Luke gets back home that evening to see Michael lounging on the sofa in boxer shorts and a t-shirt, he has half a mind to turn right back around. 

“Comfy?” He asks instead, setting his bag down and going to get a drink. His voice even sounds semi-normal.

“Very.” Michael smiles, not looking up from the T.V. “How was work?”

“It – good.” Luke mentally smacks himself. “Thanks again for bringing me my lunch.”

“The ‘again’ implies you thanked me in the first place.” Michael looks at him, lips curved in a tiny smile. Luke fights not to let his skin flush.

“Yeah, sorry about that. You just took me by surprise.” Luke pours orange juice from the fridge into a glass. “So … speaking of work, what do you do?” He asks.

“I’m a bartender. So I’ll be disappearing at night, for the most part.”

“You bartend?” Luke says, glad that he seems to be managing a real conversation with Michael. “That’s cool. How is it?”

“It’s great for the most part. Drunk people leave great tips. But there’s always one group of people that want some really obscure drink that I have no clue how to make.”

“I thought bartenders knew how to make every drink there is.”

Michael raises an eyebrow. “We’re not machines, Luke.”

Luke shakes his head. “No, of course not, I wasn’t –”

“There you go again, getting flustered.” Michael sighs and gets up, walking wordlessly towards the cabinet next to Luke. As Luke watches, he gets out various bottles of alcohol that he’d brought with him and sets them on the table, as well as a tall glass. 

“What are you doing?” Luke asks, staring at Michael’s legs when his back is turned and trying not to mentally wax poetic about the contrast between the dark hair and pale skin.

“Making you a fucking drink.” Michael replies, turning around. Luke quickly looks away, sipping his orange juice. “A real one.” Michael adds, eyeing the juice with disdain.

“Do you always have this much alcohol at your disposal?”

Michael rolls his eyes. “I need to practice my craft, don’t I?” There’s a knock on the door. Michael, getting ice from the fridge, says “That’ll be Calum, could you let him in?” Luke wordlessly obliges.

Once he opens the door, he’s face-to-face with the golden-skinned boy. Calum raises his eyebrows expectantly at Luke.

“Hi,” Luke says cautiously, not sure how Calum feels about him after their last encounter. He bites his lip.

Calum looks Luke for a second longer, then shouts over to Michael. “Dude you’re right, he _is_ tense as fuck.”

Luke’s jaw drops. “I am not–”

“Already making him a drink man.” Michael cuts Luke off. Luke looks at Michael, mouth agape with shock that they’ve discussed him and decided that he’s uptight, then back at Calum, who has a cheeky grin on his face. Calum claps Luke on the shoulder in greeting before letting himself in. 

Luke shuts the door and walks back to the kitchen counter to join them, just in time to see Michael start making his drink. He’s quick, pouring out equal measures of vodka and what seems to be pineapple juice over the ice in a glass with such grace that Luke is silent, awe-struck. He adds what looks like liqueur and then caps the glass off with a cocktail shaker, shaking the drink back and forth with both hands. He catches Luke’s wide-eyed gaze and winks, and Luke nearly chokes on his own spit, looking away again. 

By the time he’s pouring the now-cold drink back into a glass for Luke, and adding a straw, Calum’s whining for Michael to ‘do him next’. Michael rolls his eyes but starts again with a fresh glass

Luke doesn’t think the only reason Michael gets tipped so heavily is because his customers are drunk. 

Luke brings the straw to his lips and swallows the cool, fruity liquid down and it tastes so good he groans. Michael’s resulting laugh rings in his ears and Luke looks up to see them both watching him with amusement.

“He’s good isn’t he?” Calum says.

“No, I just got brain-freeze.” Luke lies, immediately going back to drinking it down.

“Bullshit. You don’t have to lie, Luke, I know I’m good.” Michael says, confidence dripping from his lips and making Luke sweat.

“It’s alright. I guess I’m so used to lukewarm vodka and coke.” He says, and Michael visibly shudders. “What, are you some sort of alcoholic drink snob?” Luke teases, taking another long sip.

“I believe that getting drunk should be as much about the journey, as the destination.”

“Translated, that means he’s an alcoholic drink snob.” Calum mutters, and Luke snorts.

Michael rolls his eyes and does that cocktail-shaking thing again that make his arms look really good and Luke tries not to get caught staring again. Calum ends up with a blue drink of some sorts, and he squeals with glee as Michael pours it into his glass.

Luke drains his own drink and Michael immediately starts making him another. 

“Are you trying to get me drunk, Clifford?” Luke asks, even as he pushes his glass over to Michael for a refill.

“Consider yourself lucky. I usually have people pay me to get them drunk.”

“I’m honoured.” Luke deadpans. His head feels somewhat less clear than it did when he arrived home but he’s good, it’s all good. He welcomes the buzz and this time stares, unabashed as Michael casually splashes the concoction of drinks over the bed of ice in the cup, completely at ease, even with how fast he’s working. It’s fucking hot.

When Luke has his second drink in front of him, Michael leans towards him, forearms on the marble counter. 

“How are we feeling now?” He wonders. Luke tries and fails to stifle a laugh that bubbles up in his throat for no real reason.

“There’s your answer mate.” Calum tells Michael.

“Luke are you drunk already?” Michael asks, an incredulous look on his face. Luke immediately shakes his head no.

“Bullshit,” Calum sings. “Luke’s a lightweight. This is amazing.”

“No ‘m not.” Luke says, but immediately laughs when he sees to disbelieving looks on both Calum and Michael’s faces.

Calum laughs at him, and Michael says, “I’m gonna have to cut you off,” which makes Luke laugh even harder for some reason, throwing his head back with it, which in turn makes Calum laugh at how bizarre the whole thing is.

Michael reaches for Luke’s glass and Luke grabs it before he can get it. “No, I’m still thirsty,” He says, then tries to bring the straw to his mouth. It takes him a while to actually get it in his mouth, and at one point, Calum gets his phone out to record his trials and errors, laughing hysterically. Michael shakes his head, a smile on his face and makes himself a drink. 

“You’re so fucking good at this.” Luke says as he watches Michael work.

Michael looks up and smiles at Luke and just like every single time he does it, Luke’s heart squeezes in his chest. “I know.” He says, which Luke should have been expecting.

“Asshole.” Luke says.

“I know.” Michael says again, and he actually smirks. 

By the time Michael’s finished making his drink, Luke’s glass is nearly empty but Michael still clinks his glass against his own, then Calum’s.

“Bottom’s up!” Calum calls and they raise their glasses and drink. 

“You should come by the club where I work sometime.” Michael tells Luke, who immediately nods, not caring about how absolutely eager he looks.

“How about tonight?” Luke asks.

“Don’t you have work in the morning?” Michael asks.

“Fuck work,” Luke says, quite loudly, and Michael grins.

“I want to take your word for it but you’re drunk and I feel like I should call Ashton for a second opinion on whether ‘fuck work’ is really the right attitude to have here.”

“Huh?” Luke says.

“Exactly.” Michael says, picking up Luke’s phone. “Is it okay if I call him?” Luke nods, focusing more on the green of Michael’s eyes than what he’s saying. He looks away after a second. He needs to reign himself the fuck in.

__

Ashton says no. 

He ends up coming over and convincing Luke that he’ll regret the fuck out of this decision in the morning if he goes, and they all end up sitting on the sofa talking and watching movies, the TV illuminating the otherwise dark room. The drinks sit abandoned in the kitchen now that everyone’s sufficiently buzzed. Michael even called in to cancel his shift so he could stay with them and it makes Luke feel good to think about that. Luke is sitting next to Michael, his thigh against his and it’s nice and warm and he doesn’t feel that mad at Ash for not letting him go out anymore.

The topic of conversation drifts to Luke's job-slash-current financial situation, like it often does when he's drunk. He laments about his demotion and Ashton insists that there has to be some reason for it, and that the reason is probably illegal, spiraling off into various conspiracy theories. Michael, hearing about this for the first time, vows to get to the bottom of it. Luke pats his head in appreciation but tells Michael that he spent the better part of last year trying to figure it out and there's no point dwelling on it. Michael tells Luke he's cute when he doubts him and Luke flushes bright red.

There's relative silence for a while and Luke pretends to watch the movie while subtly shuffling closer to Michael.

“Calum’s got that look on his face.” Michael whispers to Luke, nudging him. His whisper tickles and Luke shivers a little, before looking over at Calum. Ashton and Calum clicked instantly and have been giggling and whispering together on and off since Ashton arrived. They’re talking quietly and sitting awfully close together.

“What look?” Luke wants to know.

“He always gets this expression on his face when he’s trying to take someone home.” Michael explains. “In this instance, it’s Ashton.”

Luke looks at them again, a little wistful. At least some of them were getting what they wanted tonight.

Luke leans his head against Michael’s shoulder. “Ash doesn’t do one night stands.” He yawns, eyes drooping a little.

“Calum can be very convincing.” Michael says.

Michael ends up being right. Ten minutes later, Calum stands up and practically dances out, calling a ‘bye!” to Michael and Luke. Michael raises his eyebrows at him and Calum winks. Ashton says bye to Michael, then messes up Luke’s hair as he walks past him and tells him to drink some water before bed. Luke grunts at him and the front door swings closed.

“Bed?” Michael asks after a minute, and Luke nods. Michael wraps an arm around Luke to help him stand but it takes a while to successfully get up since Michael’s not exactly sober himself. Michael guides Luke towards his room, kicking the door open. Luke groans when he sees that there’s no sheets on the bed, remembering what happened to them that morning and trying not to blush as Michael stares right at the scene of the crime.

“Shit.” Luke mutters, trying to keep his voice steady.

“I don’t know if I’m sober enough to help you put fresh sheets on. It’s hard enough when I _haven’t_ been drinking.”

“Can I sleep with you?” Luke slurs.

“Mhmm.” Michael hums, turning back around and walking Luke to his own room.

“Was that a yes?” Luke asks as Michael flicks his bedroom light on. 

“No, Luke, I just brought you in here to tease you before kicking you out and making you sleep on the couch.”

“Are you being sarcastic?”

“No.” Michael says, gesturing for Luke to sit on his bed. Luke does as he says. Michael leaves for a minute then comes back with a glass of water for him and tells him to drink up, as per Ashton’s request. After he sets the water down on Michael’s nightstand, Michael picks it up and drinks the rest and Luke watches his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows.

“You want to get into pajamas?” Michael asks. Luke looks down at himself and realises he’s still wearing his dress pants and shirt from work. He shakes his head, unbuttoning his shirt, fumbling with the buttons. Michael bats his hands away after watching him struggle for a minute, doing it himself instead. Luke’s eyelids droop and he tries not to dwell on the fact that Michael’s undressing him – not in the circumstances he’d prefer, but still. After Luke kicks off his jeans, Michael climbs into bed and Luke follows.

Michael groans when Luke knees him in the back – “’M sorry my legs are just … really long” – but then turns around and nudges Luke until he rolls over so they’re almost spooning but not quite. Luke can feel Michael’s bare thighs against his and it makes him feel a little dizzy. The liquid confidence pushes Luke to take a deep breath and then take Michael’s hand, wrapping his arm around his stomach. The warmth of Michael makes his mind spiral, makes him imagine Michael flipping him onto his back, pressing him into the mattress, opening him up- 

“So you’re a snuggler.” Michael murmurs after a second, already falling asleep.

“’S no big deal. Ash and I cuddle all the time.” Luke says, too quickly, too defensively. Michael snorts.

“Relax. I wasn’t about to demand we both chant ‘no homo’ or anything.” He says, patting Luke’s tummy. Luke relaxes.

“Whatever. Go to sleep.” Luke says, and Michael settles with his nose against Luke’s shoulder and does so.


	3. iii.

Michael’s raucous snoring slowly wakes Luke up for work in the morning. 

Luke elbows him blindly to get him to stop, rubbing his face into the pillow. Michael barely even stirs. His warm body is pressed against back, his chest rising and then falling with each snore. Luke cracks an eye open to look at the digital clock on Michael’s nightstand. The red numbers read 7:02. He relaxes again – he’s not late yet.

“Michael,” he says, voice thick with sleep. He gets no response. It hits him right after he says the older man’s name aloud – he’s really here, in Michael’s bed. He spent the night here. _In Michael’s bed_.

Luke sits up.

His head spins a little due to the sudden movement but otherwise, he feels fine. He didn’t drink nearly enough to warrant an actual hangover, Michael made sure of that, looked after him all night, even to the extent of letting Luke’s drunk ass sleep in his bed. In his underwear. They _cuddled_.

Luke risks a glance behind him to look at Michael, who’s lying on his front, hair sticking up at the oddest angles. His face is turned away from Luke and the sheets are bunched around his waist. Luke berates himself for wanting to touch the smooth skin of his bare back and swings his legs over the bed, stands up, and then turns back to look at Michael again.

As he stares, Michael’s snoring starts up again, louder than before, and Luke grabs his clothes laying on the floor in the corner of the room, and hightails it the hell out of there.

X

Luke marks that morning as the first morning in recordable history that Ashton Irwin is _not_ at work before him. In fact, he’s 10 minutes late. 

He’s decided on a simple condescending smile as his reaction for when Ashton finally walks in, but his plans change when Ashton walks in looking freshly fucked, his tie loosened, his top two buttons undone, his neck bruised. He’s wearing his glasses, which means he’s too out of it to even put in his contacts and Luke is mildly concerned.

“Dude who jumped you on the way in here?” Luke asks him, to which Ashton smiles goofily and sits at his desk, looking way too blissed out for nine am on a Wednesday.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Ashton says, belatedly, which makes Luke snort. He sits down at his desk and moves his mouse around to wake his computer from standby. While the screen loads, Ashton buttons his shirt back up and fixes his tie. Luke puts the pieces together.

“Did you _just_ leave Calum’s house? As in right before work?” Luke’s eyebrows shoot up. Ashton shakes his head.

“He left mine.” Ashton still has that toothy grin on his face, like he’s found the secret to serenity and it’s Calum-shaped.

“So Mr. Ashton I-Don’t-Do-One-Night-Stands Irwin finally gave in for someone.”

“It wasn’t a one-night stand.” Ashton runs his fingers through his hair in an effort to look less like he’d been caught in a particularly vicious storm. 

Luke frowns, thinking back to what Michael had mentioned about his friend. Nothing he had said had indicated Calum was exactly looking to settle down. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I’m sure. We talked about it. Sometime between his second and third orgasm, we decided–”

“Summarise,” Luke says quickly, grossed out, even though somewhere inside him he’s jealous of Calum and his multi-orgasmic adventures and the way he’s brave enough to actually pursue the people he’s attracted to. Luke can only dream about that kind of self-security.

“– We… talked about stuff, and I told him that I wanted to get to know him because I actually kind of like him. We have a lot in common, I found out.”

“All this between orgasms?” Luke mutters. Ashton gives him a dry look.

“Enough questions.” Ashton leans back in his chair, arms folded. “How did things go with Michael? You two looked pretty cosy when I left.” He waggles his eyebrows with amazing dexterity.

“Nothing happened.” Luke looks away from Ashton, picking up his pen to get back to work. It _is_ the truth, technically, but he’s not sure going from awkwardly avoiding Michael to sleeping in his bed could be classified ‘nothing’, but it’s nothing-adjacent so Luke isn’t talking.

“You sure about that?” Ashton asks after a moment of silence, disbelief colouring his tone. Luke doesn’t look up. His world is the spreadsheet in front of him right now.

“One hundred-percent, Ashton, now get back to work we’re not getting paid to gossip about our love lives.” He huffs. He can practically hear Ashton’s eyes roll.

X

Michael’s sitting at the island in the kitchen with an array of documents spread all over the marble countertop when Luke gets home.

“Hey,” Luke greets him cautiously. Michael looks up.

“Oh, no. We aren’t going back to awkward, stilted ‘heys’, Lucas.”

Luke tries to hide his relief that Michael doesn’t think he’s some awkward, lightweight weirdo who craves human contact in any way he can get it, even if it means crawling into his housemate’s bed while inebriated. Even though that _is_ kind of what he is.

“You’re not the boss of me,” Luke scoffs, kicking his shoes off by the door. Luke can feel Michael’s eyes following him while he does it, and even so, he makes a conscious effort not to look up at him and tell him a picture would last longer. He refuses to get into another argument where Michael will argue that the only way Luke could have known Michael was looking at him, is if Luke was looking at Michael too. He’s so fucking _annoying_.

Michael looks away when Luke doesn’t rise to the bait, going back to whatever he’s doing. Luke walks over to sit at the island.

“So, what are you doing?” He asks, and well, it doesn’t take him long at all to crack and come crawling back for Michael’s attention. Michael has a knowing smile on his face, glancing briefly up at Luke, but continuing to write.

“Planning.” He replies. 

“Yeah?” Luke says, leaning over to look at what Michael’s writing. There’s several sheets of paper, with figures, statistics, small print, percentages typed out on them. “Do bartenders really have to deal with all this? This looks like the kind of shit _I_ do at work.”

“No, Luke, of course us lowly bartenders have never seen a percentage in our lives.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.” Luke says, starting to feel like an annoying toddler looking for someone to play, because Michael is still working away, basically ignoring him. Luke decides to go the full nine yards and play into his role. He snatches Michael’s pen out of his hand. “Tell me what you’re doing.”

Michael looks up, and rests his elbows on the table, finally deciding to grace Luke with the gift of his eye contact. “Can I have my pen back?” Michael looks like he’s trying awfully hard not to smile.

“No.” Luke stares right back at him. Michael sighs.

“I want to open my own business.” He says finally. “My own bar, with my own employees and my own customers. Happy?”

Luke looks at Michael. “Really? Your own bar?”

“Yes, Luke, my own bar.” Michael says, in that same patronizing tone that both pisses Luke off and vaguely arouses him for some reason that he should probably get checked for.

“How?” Luke wonders, interested. He wonders if ambition is one of his kinks because he doesn’t think he’s ever been more attracted to Michael than he is right now.

“Well, I’m in the research stage right now. I’d need a lawyer, and then an accountant, then I’d need to look at locating and leasing a site. Then look at applying for a development application to start building, then after I get my liquor license, I can start hiring staff. It’s a really long process.”

“I love when you talk dirty to me,” Luke says, eyes cast downwards, scanning through a handwritten plan on the edge of the counter. He doesn’t even realise he’s said it aloud until Michael snorts, tugging the sheet of paper out of Luke’s hands.

“I know you do.” He says, then winks. Luke’s mouth falls open and he tries to pass it off as a cough as Michael continues, “This thing is kind of my baby so I don’t want to show anyone anything until I’m on my way to getting it off the ground.”

“Fine,” Luke says – he has no idea why he sounds so petulant. This is literally none of his business. He needs to stop being so goddamn nosy.

“But,” Michael starts hesitantly. “But once I do kind of get things going, maybe you could help? Like I said, I need an accountant.”

“I don’t know,” Luke sighs, contemplative, “Why would I want to work for _you_?”

“As opposed to working for the literal demons that are your bosses?”

“They’re not that bad.” Luke says, but it’s audible in his voice that he doesn’t believe his own words.

“You’re right. They haven’t tried to literally kill you or anything yet. What more can you ask for?”

Luke stands up. “My thoughts exactly.”

A muscle pulses in Michael’s cheek. “You’re impossible. We’re out of milk by the way,” He says, going back to work.

“It’s your turn to buy,” Luke argues, stopping at his bedroom door.

“I bought the last one,” Michael says.

“No you didn’t, you bought vanilla ice cream and then told me it was the same thing.”

“Well I’m broke until I get paid on Friday so if you want to keep drinking your milky ass coffee every morning, you know what to do.”

“You’re a dick,” Luke says, opening his bedroom door.

“Thank you.” Luke can hear the smile in his voice.

X

Luke finds himself standing outside Michael’s door at 23:24 that night.

He has no excuse. There’s no real reason to warrant him creepily standing here, trying to work up the courage to knock. His sheets are fine now – he put fresh ones on earlier. He’s not even drunk. He should be perfectly able to sleep on his own, like most grown adults do but his bed had felt ten times bigger and freezing cold without Michael’s warmth next to him and he’s _weak_ , okay?

The last thing he said to Michael was that he was a dick and now here he is, crawling back like an infant after a tantrum. This is the second time today he’s felt like a child and if you ask him, that’s two times too many.

The bedroom door swings open suddenly and Luke’s heart leaps into his throat. Michael’s green eyes flash in the relative darkness of the room.

“I heard you breathing.” He says, voice deeper than it normally is during the day. He stares right into Luke’s eyes.

“Really? Your eardrums are in great shape.”

“Yeah well you’re a mouth breather when you’re nervous, so I’m pretty sure our neighbours heard you too.”

“Oh.” The tips of Luke’s ears are pink. “Um. Sorry I stormed off earlier, I guess.” He tries, not sure what the magic words are for Michael to put him out of his misery and let him in.

“That was you storming off?”

“Clearly. You were there, keep up.”

Michael holds Luke’s gaze for a second longer, a smug smile on his lips, before he turns around and practically saunters back into the room, leaving the door open. “You’re letting a draught in.” Michael calls behind him.

Luke swallows and steps in, shuts the door behind him. The room is dark, save for the light coming from the red numbers on the small digital clock. Luke fumbles for a while in the blackness before he feels Michael’s fingers along his arm, sliding down to find his hand, then pulling him down onto the bed. Luke lifts his blankets and burrows under them with the older man, shuffling around until he’s resting with his back against Michael’s chest with an almost practiced ease.

Luke’s whole body relaxes once Michael’s against his, eyes sliding shut once Michael’s arm is wrapped around him. Pathetic, some would say.

“Thanks.” He says quietly, kind of hoping somehow Michael won’t hear, but he doesn’t have the type of luck.

“G’night Lukey,” Michael says in response. The nickname makes his heart thrum, his chest light.

X

During the day, it’s business as usual. Luke yells at Michael about the milk again and Michael brings the vanilla ice cream out of the freezer and slams it on the counter in front of Luke then walks away into his room and Luke’s body temperature rises above boiling, his jaw clenched.

Michael’s so _annoying_ , everything he does seems to somehow get a reaction out of Luke, and Luke’s not sure how but he has to be doing it on purpose. He’s got this smart attitude and a penchant for using it to wind Luke up. At the same time, Luke has never been so sexually frustrated in his life. Every time Luke sees him walk half-naked out of the shower, it’s like something inside him snaps and he has to be mean to Michael for the rest of the day, he just has to. 

And Luke’s _nice_ , is the thing. He’s a nice person who generally doesn’t enjoy picking fights for no reason and arguing over petty things but with Michael, it’s like he can’t help it. And Michael is definitely not one to take it lying down – half the time, he’s the instigator. Luke remembers Michael telling him he’s usually the passive-aggressive type, a trait he had failed to see within him over the last month or so they’ve been living together, so they obviously both brought out this reaction in each other.

Then at night time they get ready for bed and Luke ends up in Michael’s bed like clockwork, every day, no matter what’s been said.

Luke cracks and tells Ashton about it, and Ashton compares them to an old married couple. Luke tells Ashton he’s not funny and he’s never telling him anything ever again.

X

Luke works late 4 days in a row the next week. When he gets home he’s too tired to even argue back when Michael picks fights with him.

He comes in on the fourth night and finds Michael standing in the kitchen, the only sound in the room the kettle boiling behind him.

“Figured you’d want a warm drink when you got back,” Michael says quietly, looking Luke up and down. “I would’ve made you something to eat but you don’t like sleeping on a full stomach. Weirdo.”

“Thanks.” Luke’s voice sounds hoarse from disuse. He can only imagine what he looks like.

“You look like shit.” Well that’s that.

“Thanks.” He says again.

“No, really, Luke. I – I did some research and they can’t just do this, just pile more and more work on you and not let you leave till’ it’s all done. It’s _midnight_ , your shift ended seven hours ago.”

“You did research?” Luke asks, faux-shocked.

Michael looks at Luke. “Stop trying to make this into a smaller deal than it is.”

Luke sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Look, this is just how it is for now. Yes, my bosses are dickwads, that’s not news to me. But this’ll pass.” Luke understands how Michael feels. If this wasn’t his life he’d probably be confused about it too, but they pretty much own him for the time being and he’s not about to risk losing his job altogether by taking action against them.

Michael turns around to pour the boiled water into a mug.

“Come work for me,” He says, dropping a teabag into the mug. “Seriously.”

Luke stares at Michael’s back. “Gross.”

“I’m serious about opening this bar. I’ve got a meeting tomorrow about a loan and if everything works out I could totally pay you and everything. Actual real cash money.” Michael gets a carton of milk out of the fridge and adds it to Luke’s tea. 

“You bought the milk?” Luke asks, astonished.

Michael rolls his eyes. “I cracked, okay? You’re so fucking stubborn, one of us had to be the adult here. The way things were looking, neither of us was ever going to drink milk again.”

“So, what’s the plan here? I just walk in and hand in my notice tomorrow?”

“That’s exactly the plan. Maybe tell them to kiss your ass as well.” Michael says, setting the mug in front of Luke.

“’M sure that’ll go down well.” Luke says, taking a sip. This is all such unknown territory. Luke doesn’t know how to go from using up all of Michael’s favourite conditioner just to piss him off (and also because it smells like him), to this. To putting all of his energy into being perpetually irritated by Michael, to actually having a conversation about him, and not just a conversation, but a conversation about his future. Michael cares about him and that’s a hard pill to swallow because once Luke accepts that, pretending he doesn’t like him is going to get ten times harder. 

Michael sits next to Luke, swivelling his chair around to face him. “I’ll call you to let you know when the loan’s been approved, and then you can go quit. Make sure you get Ashton to record it I want to see the looks on their faces.”

“I haven’t agreed –”

“Yet.” Michael finishes, leaning across the counter on his forearms, looking at Luke until he rolls his eyes, not even able to deny it. Michael grins knowingly. 

Michael comes in even closer, eyes pinning Luke down with such intensity he can’t look away, can barely breathe.

“Michael,” Luke says, so quiet he can barely even hear himself. But that could just be the blood pounding in his ears.

“Wait, shut up,” Michael pleads, still just inches away, evidently refusing to let Luke run his mouth and ruin this moment they’ve created. Because it _is_ a moment. _This_ is the something Ashton’s been asking about.

“Okay,” Luke whispers back, even though Michael told him to shut up, but he could have said something worse like ‘why are we whispering’ and fucked everything up altogether so he’s doing quite well, all things considered. His heart is in his throat but he’ll manage. He’s looking from Michael’s green, green eyes to his pink, pink lips quite often. So often it must be comical. He’s sure he’s up to a glance a second by now. His head hurts.

Michael closes the distance between them and covers Luke’s mouth with his own, swallowing Luke’s gasp. His soft lips press against Luke’s and Luke feels his grip on the mug slacken and it falls out of his hand. The tea splashes all over the floor and the porcelain shatters but they don’t pull apart, Michael doesn’t stop kissing him, his tongue slipping into his mouth, sliding wetly against Luke’s.

Michael’s hand twists into a fist in Luke’s shirt, pulling him closer, the sound of their lips against each-other’s filling the room, their breaths coming loud and quick. They pull apart briefly, both of them catching their breath and then Luke’s pulling Michael in, heart pounding, to kiss him again and Michael kisses him back just as fiercely. Michael bites Luke’s bottom lip and Luke moans quietly, the hand he’s got on Michael’s neck slipping up into his hair. He has no idea what’s going on; but he likes it.

His dick is at least half hard and as he pulls away, a quick glance down confirms Michael’s is too so he’s okay about it. Well at least now he knows Michael’s gay. At this point he’d have been surprised if he wasn’t but it’s always nice to have things confirmed.

“Technically I just made out with my boss,” Luke says.

“Technically you’re a nerd,” Michael tells him. “A nerd who spilled the tea I made all over the fucking floor. This is the second time you’ve dropped your drink because of me, you know.”

Things are back to normal, or normal-adjacent and Luke can breathe again. 

“Shut up.” He says, trying not to be painfully embarrassed that Michael knows he’s also at fault for the time he’d knocked over a glass the day he moved in. He hops down off the chair. “I’m gonna go get ready for bed.”

“Okay. I’m not cleaning up your mess.” Michael nods towards the drink on the floor and the glass pieces that lay in it.

“I wouldn’t expect you to.” Luke assures him, walking into his room and finally allowing himself to smile about what just happened.


	4. iv

"Wakey, wakey," comes Michael's raspy morning voice against the ticklish spot at the back of Luke's neck. Luke makes an unintelligible sound in response. Outside, the rain is coming down hard against the roof and windows, the rush of the water lulling Luke back into unconsciousness. Michael nudges him gently, and Luke makes a noise of displeasure, high in his throat, still not fully awake. 

"Shut up," Luke says into his pillow, sleepily rolling the two words into one. 

"You shut up," Michael says reflexively. Then, "Hey, you didn’t drool on my pillow last night, that's a first. Nice one, Luke." 

"Shut _up_ ," Luke says a little clearer now he's conscious, shoving at him. 

"God, that was weak," Michael says after a moment. Luke's eyes open just so he can roll them. He turns onto his back away from Michael in a show of annoyance that's so obviously fake, he wonders why he even bothered. 

He's quitting his job today. Probably the most impulsive thing he's ever decided to do. Yes, it's a terrible place with terrible people (save for Ashton), but it's all he's ever known and taking this chance has his anxiety levels at an all time high. 

More than half of his anxiety can be attributed to knowing that he's going to have to hand in his letter of resignation to his incredibly terrifying boss at some point today. It's enough to make him want to slide his eyes closed again and go back to sleep. If he just stopped coming in, they'd get the message, wouldn't they? 

"Luke," Michael says again. Luke groans. 

"Who even _are_ you. Aren't I usually the one that has to force _you_ out of bed?" 

"First time for everything," Michael hums. Luke notices for the first time the cautious tone of voice he's been using and figures Michael's wondering where his head is at. 

Luke isn't too sure himself. 

"He doesn't even yell," Luke tells the ceiling, rubbing his eyes to wake himself up. "He just talks at you, picks you apart, makes you feel shitty. Then he thanks you for coming and tells you to close the door on your way out." Luke's only ever had one experience with his boss, way back when he first started at he'd made some dire mistake that would take the rest of the day to fix. He calls it an 'experience', when really it was more of an extended panic attack. 

Ashton had let him cry into his shoulder when he came back from his office. 

"Mr Plaza?" Michael asks, tucking a lock of Luke's hair behind his ear. 

"Yeah," Luke mumbles. He'd forgotten his demon of a boss even had a name. 

Michael's quiet for a minute. 

"Luke – you don't have to do this if you don't want to, you know that, right?" 

Luke stretches, chest arching out, and looks up at Michael. 

"What, you don't want me working with you anymore?" He asks, resting back on the bed. 

Michael nods. "Thought about it, and it actually sounds like hell, so. Dealing with you at home _and_ at work? Hard pass. And you'd be working for me, not with me, get it right." 

"Oh I see, this is all one big power trip to you. You into being the boss, Michael?" Luke leers at him. 

"Oh yeah. All ties in with this whole underlying BDSM fetish I have." 

"I'm into that," Luke tells him, voice low. 

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." 

"Most people are, until they hear it also includes a pretty major piss kink." 

Luke's lips twitch. "I _love_ piss," he says, face straight. Michael cracks up, body shaking with it, and shoves Luke away. "Go get ready for work, weirdo." 

"Not until you kiss me again," Luke says, batting Michael's hands away, grinning when he sees him attempt to hide the smile spreading across his face. 

"Keep your lips to yourself," Michael says, intertwining his fingers with Luke's and pulling him closer, "slut." 

"Just need a confirmation I didn't dream it," Luke tells him. 

"You could never dream up how great of a kisser I am. You one-hundred percent sure about quitting?" 

"One hundred and one percent," Luke tells him. 

"Now, as an accountant, I'd expect you to know that's not possible." 

"Shut up," Luke mumbles, and promptly sticks his tongue in Michael's mouth. 

There's a moment before Michael reacts, and then he pulls Luke closer, a strong hand at the small of his back. Luke whimpers a little and Michael growls a little and then it's just grabbing hands and sliding lips and tongue and Luke pulling himself into Michael's lap, straddling his legs, the feeling of the skin of their bare thighs against each other making Luke's stomach clench. There's only two layers between them – Luke's dick twitches in acknowledgment of that. 

Michael's hands squeeze Luke's ass through the fabric of his underwear, and Luke moans into Michael's mouth. Michael's lips stretch into a smile, and Luke's just about to try to get him to slip his hands into his boxers and touch him properly when he pulls away slowly. 

"You're gonna be late," Michael says softly, running his nose along Luke's jaw while Luke pants and thinks about how unfair life can be. 

"When I get home–" 

"Definitely," Michael agrees. 

X

Luke arrives at work with his kiss-swollen lips stretched into a dopey grin. Ashton's there before him. Of course. His all-knowing eyes narrow as Luke walks in. 

"You gotta give up those lip-enhancers, buddy," Ashton says as Luke sinks into his desk chair. "They're not good for you." 

"Hilarious," Luke monotones. 

"So you and Michael huh?" Ashton teases, sitting back in his chair. There's a silent 'told ya so' in his voice and Luke doesn’t like it. 

"All we did was kiss," he tells him, just to see him deflate, if only a little. " _Some_ people," he adds pointedly, eyeing the fresh hickeys on Ashton's neck, "like to take things slow," he tells him, as if the fact that Michael hasn't been in him as of yet sits well with him in any way. 

Ashton laughs humourlessly, rolling his eyes. 

"Of course, Luke, you're right. Taking things slow can be very important when it comes to making big decisions, like for example leaving your job and going to work for your new boyfriend." Luke's mouth drops open. Ashton folds his arms. "Michael called." 

"Shit, Ash, I'm sorry," Luke says, wheeling his chair over to him. Ashton is theatrically not looking at him. Luke frowns. " _Ash_ , look at me. I'm sorry, it was all just decided yesterday, I swear. You know I wouldn't not-tell you on purpose. I won't even go if you don't want me to –" 

"Don't be ridiculous," Ashton rolls his eyes. "Of course you're going to go, working here is hell. Go try something new, you deserve it." Ashton sounds mad at having to come out of his sulk prematurely. Luke rolls himself in closer and rests his head against Ashton's shoulder. 

"You're the best." 

"Yeah, yeah." 

"Keep saying nice things to me," he mumbles. 

"Idiot," Ashton sighs. Luke smacks his arm lightly and sits up. "Have you talked to Mr Plaza?" Ashton asks. Luke shakes his head, anxiety settling in his stomach just at the mention of his boss' name. 

"No." 

"Are you ready to?" He asks softly. 

"No," Luke sighs. 

"Just make eye contact, tell him you're leaving, then get out of there as fast as you can. Deep breaths. Michael told me to make sure you don't faint when he called, so try not to do that either." 

Luke snorts, rolling his chair back to his desk and picking up the envelope sitting on it. He stands up. "Thanks, Ash. If you hear loud, ugly, crying, it's me." 

"His office is three floors up." 

"Yeah but that's how loud I'll be crying," Luke sighs, pained. Ashton snorts. 

"You'll be _fine_." 

"Let's hope so." Luke mutters. "And Michael's not my 'new boyfriend', we just kissed for the first time yesterday, God," 

" _That's_ what you're taking away from all of this?" Ashton says, before throwing a pen at him and telling him to get out. Luke dodges it, laughing and scurrying to the elevator. 

X

"Well, he wasn't _happy_ ," Luke says, sitting at the island as Michael pours him some wine after work. "But 's not like he could do anything about it. My mind was made up just had to deal with it." Luke folds his arms. 

Michael looks at Luke as he sets his wine glass in front of him. "You cried, didn't you?" 

"Yeah but not 'til I was out of his office," Luke grumbles, deflating a little. Michael laughs, pulling him gently against his side. "He's fucking scary, Michael," Luke says, leaning into Michael more than he necessarily needs to, his head resting in the crook of his neck. Michael smells like fabric softener and the cologne that he sprays on every morning after his shower. Luke wants to bury his face in his chest and just inhale. 

"I know, baby," Michael soothes. Luke's heart stutters in his chest at the pet name. "You can forget about him now, yeah? From now, 's just you and me, okay?" Michael says. It makes Luke feel warm inside to be taken care of for once, to have someone worrying on his behalf and trying to solve his problems with him. It makes for a change to not even two months ago, when he'd wake up feeling like he had to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders. These days, he feels so much lighter. 

"Yeah," Luke breathes after a moment. He can't even find it in him to add an _'are you trying to make me feel worse?'_ and ruin the moment. He likes Michael. He really likes him. It's been relatively easy to act like he was the most infuriating, admittedly attractive person on earth and fuck with his things and make him spend an extra dollar on milk every week just to piss him off, but he's way too weak to refrain from admitting the truth to himself now. He likes him so much it hurts sometimes, and he doesn't know what he did to deserve Michael actually liking him back. 

Michael's hand strokes slowly over Luke's back, shoulder to shoulder. Luke swallows – he looks up at Michael to find Michael already looking down at him. Michael's hand against his back feels like it's slowly burning his skin all of a sudden, as it comes up to curl loosely around the back of Luke's neck. Luke shivers, their eye contact slowly growing almost magnetic with the pull of it, like it's only a matter of time before Michael uses the hand at the back of Luke's neck to pull him in and – 

There's a jangling of keys at the door and then Calum strolls in, Ashton on his heels. Luke's initial instinct is to jerk away from Michael like he's been caught doing something he shouldn't but this is _his house_ goddammit. 

"How the hell did you get a key?" Luke ask, confused more than anything, but Ashton, completely undeterred by the near-murderous expression in Luke's face, has already gotten his phone out to take a picture of Michael with his arm around Luke. As he does so, Calum coos at them. 

"Well isn't that just adorable. Bless their hearts." 

"Aren't they the cutest things?" Ashton agrees. Michael, sighing loudly, squeezes Luke's shoulder softly in apology before letting him go. 

"Gave Calum a key back when I moved in, in case I _lost_ mine, not so he could just wander in whenever he wants," Michael tells him, flicking the back of Calum's head as he walks by them. 

"We had to come over to celebrate Luke freeing himself from Satan Incorporated," Calum defends himself, wandering over to pick up Luke's wine glass and sipping out of it. Luke rolls his eyes, but figures from experience that there's no way they're gonna get Ashton and Calum to leave their house until they're absolutely ready to go. 

"Have you two only got beer?" Ashton says, disgusted, as he looks through in their fridge. "Some bartender you are, Michael." 

"All my stuffs at the new bar. Moved them in there while Luke was at work," Michael says slowly, a grin slowly spreading over his face as all three of them turn to stare at him in response. 

There's a silence. Calum even stops stealing sips out of Luke's wine to blink at Michael in shock. Michael has this mischievous smile on his face. 

"You fucking didn't," Luke breathes. 

"Surprise," Michael grins. 

"Oh my God, you didn't even tell me you got the loan, not to talk of leasing the bar, that's amazing!" Calum yells. 

"You already got it?" Luke asks, incredulous. 

"This afternoon. Wanted it to be a surprise," Michael smiles. Luke's never wanted to kiss a man so much in his whole life. 

He's changing the locks as soon as possible - fuck being interrupted.

"None of that, Lucas, put your dick away," Ashton calls, catching the look on Luke's face. Luke flips him off, and Ashton grins at him. Right," Ashton says, clapping Michael on the back. "Lead the way, Michael, let's go get drunk at your new bar then." 

'S not even furnished yet," Michael laughs. 

"But there's alcohol there?" 

"But it doesn't even have any –" 

"Michael," Calum says, exasperated. "If there's alcohol there, then we're going there." 

It's really that simple. 

X

They end up playing a rather sexual game of _Never Have I Ever_ and Calum nearly fucking dies of alcohol poisoning. 

"Guys this isn't fair," he wheedles after having to tip back yet another shot. Michael wasn't kidding about the lack of furniture so they all end up sitting on the ground, leaning against the bar while Ashton's spotify playlist plays on in the background. "I've had to drink for every round so far, can we play a different game?" 

"Not our fault you're a slut," Ashton hums. The word visibly does something to Calum, who inhales sharply, making Luke wails in disgust. 

"You two are so gross," he groans, having been subjected to a lot more information about their sex lives than he honest thinks he deserves. "I regret everything." 

"Not our fault the kinkiest thing you've ever done is masturbate twice in one night," Calum says, immediately high-fiving Ashton afterwards. 

"Hey," Michael says, pulling Luke against him by way of comfort. "We don't _all_ have the sex drive of an actual rabbit. Luke's just a little inexperienced, there's nothing wrong with that." 

"I am _not_ ," Luke protests, shoving at Michael. He doesn't understand how every single person here has drank so much more than he has. At the point where Ashton had come out with _Never have I ever used an object not meant for sex during sex_ and everyone had drank but him, he had come to the conclusion that everyone had to be fucking lying. 

Demanding an explanation (and getting 'electric toothbrush', 'a hair brush handle' and 'a spatula', respectively, in reply) had arguably made things worse. 

Eventually Calum crawls into Ashton's lap and falls asleep chest to chest with his legs wrapped around Ashton's middle and his head rested on his shoulder. Even though they disgust Luke more than words can explain, he has to admit they're cute. They figure they've all drank more than enough and decide to lock up the bar as best as they can in their respective states and call it a night. 

They get Ubers home. Luke climbs in first, followed by Michael and Ashton gets into a different one with Calum. As soon as the driver confirms where they're going, Michael's breath comes hot against Luke's neck. Before Luke can even think of something to say, he's sucking a bruise into the sensitive skin below his ear. Luke hisses, too drunk to catch the way the Uber driver pointedly turns the volume of the radio up. 

Michael drags his teeth against the mark, flicks his tongue against it. Luke's breath comes in fast pants – apparently, his penis is not familiar with the term 'whiskey dick' because he's leaking in his boxers. Michael leans up to run his tongue against the shell of Luke's ear before whispering "this okay?" Luke nods quickly and Michael laughs quietly, this low chuckle that rings in Luke's ears and goes straight to his cock. 

Michael marks him up so good, so so good. Luke head is tipped back, exposing his neck to him, his hand tight on his shoulder, holding him close until the car stops and Michael's opening the door and getting them both out. Luke is reminded just how wasted he is when he nearly falls over the second he's upright. He giggles, leaning against Michael, who supports most of his bodyweight easily. 

The second they're in the apartment, Michael leads Luke into the bedroom. Luke turns his head to kiss him but Michael pulls back a little, eyeing him closely. 

"Maybe we shouldn't 'til we're sober," Michael says carefully. 

" _No_ ," Luke wails, "Michael, we have to–" 

"Luke, your eyes are literally sliding shut. You're gonna pass out while my dick's in you, I don't want to do that to us," Michael says, laughing despite himself. Luke groans, flopping back onto the bed. 

"But I want to," he says, fingers fumbling with the buttons on his shirt unsuccessfully while Michael laughs. Michael's a terrible person and Luke hates him.

"When we're sober, I promise." 

"We're never gonna do it," Luke whines. "I've been trying to get your dick in me since you moved in, I've suffered long enough." 

"Since I moved in?" Michael laughs, staring down at Luke, eyes shining with something Luke can't read. 

"I think every time I've jerked off since I met you, I thought about you in some way or another." 

"Oh yeah? Michael says, crawling over Luke's body, and not helping the situation in Luke's pants in the slightest. "Well, sometimes, when you'd sleep in my bed – which is every night – I'd get hard just from your body pressed against me and need to go get off in the bathroom." 

Luke groans in agony, cursing very single shot he took. "God that's hot. Can't we just –" 

"Luke, you can't even sit up properly, babe," Michael tells him. 

"Tomorrow?" He asks as Michael lays next to him. Michael nods, patting Luke's stomach re-assuringly. 

"Tomorrow," he tells him. 

They fall asleep fully dressed, shoes still on. 

When Luke wakes up in the morning, Michael's gone. He makes a joke to himself in his head about a one night stand without the sex. 

He's also in just his boxers and actually under the blankets, which means Michael stripped him and tucked him in before he left. Luke smiles to himself. 

There's a note on the bedside table. 

_Good morning. Gone to the bar, most of the furniture's being delivered today. Come round when you wake up, I was thinking you could start today x_

X

When Luke gets to the bar, its nearly completely unrecognizable to the bar they spent last night in. There are booths being installed, as well as actual bar stools at the bar and refrigerators and pumps behind it for the drinks. Michael's sat on a stool looking brilliantly proud . 

Luke walks over to sit next to him. "I'm proud of you," he says softly. 

Michael smiles, taking Luke's hand in his own at him. "Let me show you your office," he tells him, getting up and leading Luke into a back room. 

The office is spacious, about the size of Luke's old one but better because he has it to himself. There's a large desk at the wall furthest from the door, with a computer set up on it. A shelf hangs on the wall next to it with empty binders and notepads for Luke to use, next to which is a large window. 

Michael's talking about some accounts that need to be balanced but Luke's mind is pre-occupied with thoughts of how that desk is just high enough for him to lean over while Michael fucks him. He's had enough, to be honest. He's about to tell Michael as much when his phone rings.`Michael picks it up and Luke sighs loudly, going to sit on the desk. 

Michael's formerly relaxed expression twists into a frown and he says, "Calum, calm down – tell me again, slowly." He pauses for a long time and Luke listens in but all he can hear is what seems to be Calum's speed-talking, sounding distressed.

Eventually, Michael tells him, "Okay, okay. I'll be there in a minute," before hanging up. 

"Is everything okay?" Luke asks him. 

Michael sighs loudly, pocketing his phone. "Calum broke up with Ashton just now. They had a big fight about it and Calum's upset." 

Luke stands up. "What do you mean, they broke up? Calum adores Ashton." 

"Well, yeah, but he doesn't adore commitment." Michael scrubs a hand over his face. "Said he woke up to Ashton making him pancakes and the domesticity of it all freaked him out, so he broke up with him on the spot." 

"God," Luke mutters, heart breaking for his friend. "Poor Ash. I told him about Cal, about him being – the way he is, but he was adamant." 

"What do you mean, 'the way he is?'" Michael asks, seeming to bristle slightly. Luke notices the subtle sharpness of his tone, but his friends just been dumped out of nowhere and he can't act like that's perfectly fine. 

"Just like you said back when we all first met. Calum's constant stream of one-night-stands? I mean, he obviously wasn't ready for an actual relationship, and that's what I told Ash–" 

"Well maybe Ash should've listened, and then we wouldn't have Calum calling me yelling about Ashton literally refusing to take him at his word when he says it's over." 

Luke folds his arms, incredulous. "What are you talking about? Both you and I thought Calum and Ashton were actually going to go somewhere with this, you can't blame Ashton for believing in what they had." 

"He knew, Luke. He's my friend too, but he knew what he was getting into. I can't blame him for hoping, but it's his fault for thinking he might be different from the others."

Luke blinks at Michael. "That's fucking cold and you know it."

Michael sighs again, then turns on his heel. "I'm gonna go help Calum out. All the stuff you need should be in one of those drawers – I'll be back in an hour." With that, he's gone taking all the warmth Luke's been feeling with him lately with him.

The argument, however small, leaves the room feeling cold, as if things are already getting bad before they've even really gotten good. Luke sits down stiffly and gets to work.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, come talk to me on my tumblr @gonnamuke, now the same as my ao3 handle. Comments sustain me and encourage me to write so please leave one. Thank you for reading :')


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